Evening sun coming through the stained glass windows brought a million dust particles to life in the air and cast the macabre scene in twisted colors of yellow, orange, blue, red, and green.
Marcus reached for his handkerchief to cover his nose and mouth in an attempt to fend off the odor as his stomach revolted. He should have passed on dinner before coming. He doubted he would have been hungry after the visions he beheld here. After a lengthy search, he found his brother. He was shocked at how changed Jared looked from when he saw him last, cleanly shaven and handsome in his uniform.
There was little to resemble that dashing officer now, as his brother lay unkempt, battered, gaunt, and motionless on a rough-hewn pallet layered in rags.
“Jared, I’m here.” He gently touched his brother’s shoulder. He called again with more intensity. He waited. Impending doom overtook his heart until Jared’s blue eyes flickered open. look took several moments to register the face of the person bent over him.
When he did, he gave a weak grin. In a barely discernible gasp, Jared rasped, “Take me home.” The eyes closed. “Please?”
Marcus failed to cajole him to open his eyes again or to speak. “I will do what I can to bring you home.” He received no response. Fear gripped Marcus’s heart. He might lose his younger brother. He rose and began a frantic search for a doctor. He was able to discover the extent of the life-threatening injuries. Soon he and his servants managed to convey him home.
Once Jared was settled in his old room, Marcus’s days revolved around seeing to his brother’s care. A family physician in London tended the patient, and Marcus hovered even more than he had with Josie. Eventually, Jared’s infection subsided and the fever was gone.
Marcus urged him on, and his brother soon ate and slowly regained his strength.
~*~
Josie greeted her father and hugged him. Lady Grey invited him to spend the night before they departed for Rose Hill the next day. Josie teased her father that this time she would have to play chaperone for him and Lady Grey. She was surprised when he blushed at her words.
Once back home, ennui was Josie’s nemesis. Nothing interested her, and the tasks she normally did seemed pointless. She wondered how Marcus and his brother fared. The weeks ahead loomed long and dismal.
A few short weeks after she returned to Stone, a visitor arrived for Josie.
The housekeeper had placed him in the drawing room.
Josie pulled up short in the doorway when she realized it was Sir Archibald Bastian, a distant neighbor, and persistent and most unwanted suitor. Josie fought down a disquiet within. She hoped her father would come post haste.
Sir Bastian stood in the middle of the room, dressed in black with the exception of his snowy white cravat. A black onyx stickpin was nestled in its pristine folds. The style of his dress, however, did nothing to minimize his portly figure, and his spectacles made his eyes look too large for his round, florid face.
“Sir Bastian.” She gave a slight bow and stayed close to the open door. She would not invite him to sit. “My father should arrive soon.” Please, Lord, protect me.
“It is you I came to visit today, not your father.”
An unpleasant shiver traversed the back of her neck. “I cannot imagine why, Sir Bastian.”
“Have not we known each other long enough that you could call me Archibald?” He stood now with his hands in his trouser pockets as he rocked back and forth on his heels. He toyed with her.
“I fear doing so would give rise to expectations that are not proper.” Josie spoke confidently, although inwardly she cringed as his milky green eyes perused her body from head to slippered toes.
“I would like to rectify that. Several months ago, I approached your father for permission to ask for your hand in marriage.” His mouth tried to form a smile, but it looked more like a sneer to her.
“I was aware you had spoken with my father. I am also aware he had insisted you were not to ask for my hand until after I had my season in London. I have not yet had that season, so you will have to wait. I’m not inclined to favor your suit.”
“No season? But…? You dare to refuse me?” His cheeks puffed up, and his face grew a deeper crimson shade.
“Due to an accident, I never made it to London. I will depart in a few weeks for the season. Even should I return home unattached, that should not give you hope I would favor your suit any better.” Josie folded and clenched her hands in front of her.
“What kind of response is this to a respectable proposal of marriage? I know what I want, and I will get it regardless of what you think. Beware of crossing me, Miss Storm.”
Josie stepped back as the older man thundered past her out of the room. She collapsed in a nearby chair and waited for her pulse to return to normal. Sir Bastian’s words and presence frightened her. But why? A palpable evil resonated around him. She would tell her father about the threat and leave it in his capable hands. After all, she had a different man in mind for the role of husband.
~*~
“I’m glad you are sitting up now to eat. I got tired of having to feed you myself.” Marcus teased as they sat at a table in the sitting room after a simple meal together.
Jared smiled. “It’s good to rejoin the land of the living. Hell was not a fun place to visit.”
“Care to talk about it?”
“No.”
Marcus nodded as his brother’s eyes avoided his own. This was not the first time he had tried to find out what his brother had endured while in captivity. With as many scars as his brother had, the ones on his soul would take far longer to heal. Jared thrashed at night when in the throes of night terrors. That alone convinced Marcus that the experiences had been horrific. “How about a game of chess tonight?” Marcus offered.
“I’ll pass. I want to be alone. You smother me worse than Mother ever would have. When did you start with that?” Jared’s blue eyes sparked at Marcus, and his words came out harsh.
Marcus sat back, nonplussed, and looked at his brother. What kind of gratitude was this for someone whom Marcus had come close to planning a funeral for? Marcus was only a few years older than his brother, but now he felt ancient. When had the weight of responsibility ever seemed so heavy and uncontrollable? He sighed. Jared was alive, and that was what mattered most. “I apologize. I’ll back off. You are well enough now to not need me.” Marcus rose from his chair with a sigh. “I will see you on the morrow, but only when you send word. Sleep well, Jared.”
“Marcus, I didn’t mean…”
Viscount Remington gave a wave of dismissal and closed the door to cut off his brother’s words. He strode to his study and sorted through the mail that had accumulated. The days grew longer, and he figured he would work until he was exhausted. Melancholia beset him. Josie had returned home, and he would see her again in another month. His brother was on the mend, and if Jared was a bit testy, that was understandable. The soldier was a man of action cooped up in a room, a prisoner of a body that had not fully recovered.
Marcus grabbed his letter opener, selected the first envelope, and ripped it open with a flourish. Fifty more of those and he might begin to feel better.
~*~
The day finally came when Josie undertook her journey to London in the company of her father. It was an unremarkably boring carriage ride, and she was weary by the time they reached Lady Grey’s house. They pulled up in front of what looked like a grand estate. The door opened before they reached the top step, and as they crossed the threshold, Josie found herself embraced by Lady Grey.
“Miss Storm, I have been eager for your arrival. How do you fare?” Lady Grey placed her hands on each of Josie’s arms and stood back to survey her. “You look wonderful, but I think we need to put a little meat on those bones if you are to keep up with all the activities we are to be engaged in.” She turned to Josie’s father. “Mr. Storm, what a pleasure to see you again. Will you be staying in town?”
“I’m putting up at my club and will remain fo
r a week to see Josie settled. I will tend to some business while I’m here.”
“Will you stay for dinner with us this evening?”
“I regret that I need to decline your gracious invitation, my lady.” He smiled warmly at Lady Grey, lifted her hand to place a kiss on the back, and turned to embrace his daughter.
Before Josie knew it, he was gone.
The following days were a whirlwind of shopping. They selected dress designs, fabrics, and all the necessary accessories. Hours-long dress fittings. The amount of money spent on such fripperies dismayed Josie. She gave thanks to God for the benevolence of her grandfather, who made her delayed season possible.
In addition to the myriad of shops were the afternoon teas that Lady Grey took her to, where she made the acquaintance of matrons and other young ladies of the ton. These events she found interminably boring, and the gossip impossible to avoid. She refused to engage in gossip and tried to depress the nasty words and innuendo shared, but this often left her uncomfortable.
She soon discovered that if she asked questions about the women she spoke with, they were more inclined to avoid the more lurid details of the lives of those she did not know. She figured she would need to learn how to navigate these dangerous social waters if she were to marry Marcus someday, as she hoped. Being a political hostess would require finesse if she were to deal well with the powerful people in society.
One such social call was with Lady Harriet Astley.
“My dear, Dorothea. How lovely to have you come and visit. Who is this delightful young chit you have with you?”
Josie bristled at the scrutiny as the woman looked her up and down. She determined to stand confidently in the presence of this intimidating matron.
“Lady Harriet, I would love to introduce my charge, Miss Josephine Storm. I always longed for a daughter, and God has seen fit to indulge me with this girl for several weeks, to aid her widowed father. Miss Storm, may I present to you Lady Astley.”
Josie curtsied to this grande dame of society elite, sat when and where she was bid, and observed her hostess.
Lady Astley was tall and thin and sat in her chair with her back ramrod straight, which only emphasized her lack of bosom. Her silver hair was swept up and elaborately curled in a much younger style than her years would indicate appropriate. That, added to her pale complexion and light peach colored dress, gave her the look of a wraith.
The woman’s drawing room boasted excessive decor in the Egyptian fashion, and gilt was everywhere.
Josie likened it to being a horse put through her paces as her hostess begged her to serve the tea and scrutinized her closely. The perusal was uncomfortable, and questions came rapidly.
“So how is it that you have come to be acquainted with Lady Grey?”
Josie swallowed discreetly—she didn’t want the story of her accident and extended stay at Rose Hill to become common knowledge amongst the beau monde. “We met through her nephew, Lord Remington.”
Lady Astley’s bushy gray eyebrows rose at this. “You are acquainted with the Virtuous Viscount? How interesting. How did you come to know him?” The questioner’s eyes penetrated as she directed that question to Josie.
Josie had the image of a dog who sniffed for prey as this woman awaited details. “We accidently met in the spring.” The less said the better. She thought about the moniker that Lady Astley had used to refer to Marcus. He had a reputation for virtue. She didn’t doubt his integrity but found it interesting that his behavior would be considered unusual enough to have earned that designation. Inwardly she smiled She wouldn’t want a husband who had a reputation that was anything less than virtuous, would she?
“Quite true.” Lady Grey responded. “Harriet, do you remember where you ever found that extraordinary plum hat I observed you wearing the other day in town? I admired the style and would like to discover what other creations the designer might have.”
Lady Astley abandoned Josie in favor of talk about hats and other new designers on the town this season, until other guests arrived.
Lord Harrow strode in accompanied by Lord Remington.
Josie concealed her pleasure at seeing Marcus after such a length of time. Forgotten was her disappointment in him at not having come by to visit her before this. He looked devastatingly handsome.
When Marcus took her hand in greeting, his eyes met hers with a twinkle. His skin appeared more bronzed than she had remembered. He had tied his hair back with a black ribbon. A lone curl escaped on his forehead.
Lord Harrow expressed delight at seeing her. “My dear, Miss Storm. You have arrived on the town at last. The season can now officially begin for me now that you are here. Will you be attending the Amberly party this evening?”
Josie nodded and smiled at his congenial countenance.
“Excellent. I pray you will save me a dance.”
“I would be delighted to, Lord Harrow,” Josie said softly and averted her eyes. She experienced a stab of disappointment that Marcus had not tried to claim a dance.
Lady Audrey Walsh entered with her two daughters, Amber and Angela. The girls were dressed in flounces that showed off their plumper figures in an unflattering way.
Josie found conversation difficult, as the girls only had eyes for Marcus and were determined to catch his attention.
Lady Amber leaned over and whispered to Josie, “Are you acquainted with Lord Remington?” Without waiting for an answer, the young woman nattered on. “Isn’t he the most handsome man? He looks delicious.” The young woman licked her lips as she gazed at the object of her desire as if he were a pastry she longed to devour.
“I am acquainted with the Viscount,” said Josie softly. She was determined not to be jealous of this woman’s designs on Marcus.
He had not glanced a second time at the newcomers after the initial greetings were exchanged.
“What is he like?” whispered Angela.
Josie was relieved from the burden of an answer as at that moment, Lady Grey indicated it was time to depart. They said their farewells and walked out to their carriage.
Josie leaned against the squabs and sighed. “Why do we have to go through the torture of these visits? The tea was tepid, the cakes were stale, and the gossip…I wanted to scream.”
“I’m glad you did not give into that temptation”—Lady Grey frowned—“although that would have given them something new to talk about. These are a necessary part of a season. To see and be seen, to make all the right connections will help you gain entre to the best parties to help you become the toast of the beau monde.” She gave her charge a conspiratorial wink.
“I wished I might have spoken with Marcus. It is difficult knowing he is in town but has not come to call. Why is that? Have I offended him?” She blinked back the moisture that obscured her vision.
Lady Grey ordered the driver to take them home. “No more visits today. We both need to rest before tonight’s ball. I’m sure your dance card will fill quickly.”
Josie sat up and started at Lady Dorothea. “You changed the subject. Why has Marcus not come?”
The older lady sighed and closed her eyes for a moment before opening them again. All traces of the former laughter were gone. “He desires to give you space to meet other men and know your own heart. I believe he chafes at the separation. Perhaps you will see him tonight. I hear Jared is doing much better and may even accompany him. You will like Captain Allendale. In his uniform, he is deemed to be quite handsome, even though he is as fair as Marcus is dark.”
Josie dropped her shoulders, releasing the tension she did not realize she had been holding onto. “I will just have to wait, but if this goes on much longer, I may have to consider my options.”
“Josie, you have done a wonderful job of protecting your reputation. I’m proud of how you have handled these visits. By tomorrow, I expect you will be besieged with male visitors.” The carriage pulled up to the curb, and a footman opened the door. “For now, let us seek our rest. We shall need it.”
Lady Dorothea allowed the servant to help her down the steps, and Josie followed.
~*~
Derbyshire
The Black Diamond encircled the sniveling Sir Bastian as he sat in the wood chair. “What do you mean you have not yet married her?”
“She did not have a season, because she was injured. She refused me out of hand. Her father won’t consent—”
“I do not need a willing virgin. You promised me. If you fail to deliver her, soon you will find yourself in more trouble than you can grasp.” The Black Diamond placed a foot behind a leg of the chair and shoved Bastian in the chest. The chair toppled backward and splintered apart under the weight of the knight.
Ah, that felt good.
All the air in Bastian’s lungs had been forced out, and he gasped for breath as the Black Diamond towered over him with his walking stick strategically placed under his chin. “Do. Not. Disappoint. Me. Again.” He raised his eyebrows as he glowered at the fool on the floor. The delay had not been fatal, but it slowed his progress. He thirsted for blood.
Bastian inhaled on a gasp and struggled to stand. He ran out the door, stumbling over his feet and running into the wall in his clumsy haste.
Bumbling idiots. No wonder England would fall. The aristocracy was filled with in-bred, useless fools. Soon he would rule them all with his superior intelligence and power. He had to bide his time, but only for so long.
And heaven help those who stood in his way.
19
Josie twirled in front of the full-length mirror in her room. The rose-colored empire waist gown was flattering to her figure and not cut as low as the seamstress had wanted. White gloves and pink slippers added to the effect. Ribbons and pearls wove through her hair. She stopped and smiled. I hope Marcus is there tonight. Her heart raced at the thought of seeing him again and perchance even dancing in his arms. She remembered how sad she had been when she could not walk and she had thought those dreams had been stolen from her. God had graciously allowed her this moment, and she was determined to enjoy it.
She descended the stairs into the ballroom a short time later and found herself separated from Lady Grey, who acquired her own court of admirers.
The Virtuous Viscount Page 16
